Then Let's Waste Time Together
by bluepianos
Summary: A collection of drabbles that surround the lives of our beautiful team, mainly that of Wally and Artemis. You like romance? You've come to the right place. Each drabble should be less than 1,000 words but you know what they say. The more, the merrier.
1. stars, 81

**Words**: 978  
**Character/s**: Wally/Artemis  
**Notes**: _Then Let's Waste Time Together_ is a collection of drabbles that surround the lives of the team, mainly Wally and Artemis. These drabbles are inspired by a list of 100 words that I have somewhere in my files and this one is, as you can see, number 81. I'll try to keep every drabble under 1,000 words but as they say, the more the merrier, right? Last thing, the title of this collection is derived from and inspired by the song _Just What I Needed_ by The Cars. It's stuck in my main Spitfire playlist and I _love_ that song. It's my jam, as you will.

**stars, #81**

"There's Sirius," Wally said, pointing up to the aforementioned star. "And there's Orion's Belt, there. You know, it points to – "

"Sirius, the brightest star, I know. You tell me every time we do this," Artemis interrupted with a subtle roll of her eyes. Wally poked her lightly on her side and grinned when she jerked away, releasing a small indignant yelp.

They were both lying in the back of his rather rusty pick-up truck on the edge of some beach in the East coast. They were probably on the edge of Florida or at least close to Florida. Artemis didn't really like Florida but for Wally's sake, she didn't say anything about it.

Batman had given the team the entire weekend off from missions and Wally had jumped at the chance at a road trip with his favourite girl. He didn't hesitate in blurting out his plan and asking her, pleading her to please, please, ask her mother to let her go on this road trip, it'll only take two days tops, and she'd be back before Sunday night, and they could sleep in his truck, and he knew just where to have bathroom breaks and where they could get gas, and the Batphones were always charged because they were probably powered by Wayne Tech's highest and most proficient technology (but don't tell Batman he said that) so they could always be contacted but please, Artemis, please come with me.

Artemis almost said yes just so he would stop talking but if she were being honest with herself, she was kind of looking forward to a little vacation away from Gotham and even away from the team for a while. She was in the middle of the first full month of her senior year at Gotham Academy and for Artemis, it felt as though the school had forgotten that the students were _just_ getting out of a long, lazy summer vacation. For the past few weeks, Artemis had been packed with work, college applications, and after school activities. Not to mention the fact that she was _kind of_ a superhero and therefore constantly got summoned to the Cave for missions, Artemis was definitely feeling the mode the last few weeks. At least, that's how Bart would have said it.

So that's how she found herself sitting here and pointing out the constellations with Wally, of all the things she could be doing on a Saturday night. Don't get her wrong, lying in a truck with Wally West was probably the most relaxing thing she'd done in the past few weeks but you never heard her say that. You also never heard her say that she totally enjoyed the six-hour drive to this beach, with the wind in her face, rustling her braided hair as Wally sang along to the radio. She never said anything about loving the song on the radio, one of Billy Joel's lesser known songs, and she never asked Wally to turn the volume up. There was no way she was ever going to admit enjoying any of this to M'gann or Zatanna or, God help her, Raquel, because, um, road trips with freckle-faced eighteen year-olds to a Billy Joel soundtrack and the wind in her hair? Since when was she dropped into an 80s teen film? Or some lame Mary-Kate and Ashley flick about living life and finding their one true love on the road?

Ohh, hell to the no.

"Admit it, Artemis, you're loving this road trip," Wally teased, bringing the archer back to the present. He leaned on one elbow so he could look down on her and grin that cheeky, bright, _handsome_ grin at her. Artemis in turn resisted his attempts to rattle her and narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend.

"And if I did?" she tested. Wally's grin melted into something softer and Artemis didn't miss the sparkle in his eyes as he reached out to play with a strand of hair that fell out of her braid.

"Then, I would take you on more road trips. And I'd make them last longer than a weekend," he twirled the strand of hair around his finger as he talked. "And I would never tell a soul," he finished, a knowing smile growing on his face. Artemis had to smile back.

"Fine. As long as you don't tell anyone," she jabbed a finger in front of his face, "No one!"

"I won't!" Wally promised, laughing. He let go of her hair and gathered her in his arms so he was lying on his back and she was perched on his chest, a chest that seemed to have expanded in the past few years so that it was large and warm enough to provide a completely new home for Artemis. Gone were the days when Wally West was just cute, lean, and lanky. In two years, he had grown in looks, muscle and height (but not in maturity - never in maturity) and how did he always smell this good? Or had he always smelled like light deodorant, lost leaves and his mother's homemade cinnamon rolls? Perhaps he always had and she had just never taken the time to notice it.

She was noticing it now, as he slowly ran his hands up and down her bare arms.

"So. You going to admit it anytime soon?" he asked. Artemis rolled her eyes and propped herself above him with her forearms.

"Alright," she gave up. "I love it," she told him, enunciating each word with a kiss to his left cheek, then his nose, then finally, his waiting lips.

Don't tell anybody, but Artemis may possibly, could probably, and most likely be a sucker for picking out stars from the back of rusty trucks. On the other hand, she might just be a total sucker for people like Wally West.

* * *

Wally just seems like the kind of guy who would take his favourite girl out on road trips, right? And Artemis just seems like the kind of girl who would deny it until her beautiful boyfriend's beautiful good looks were too much for her to handle.


	2. rain, 14

**Words**: 1,215  
**Character/s**: Wally/Artemis  
**Notes**: Oops, I angst'd. But, to be completely honest, angsty romance is my favourite kind of romance and Wally and Artemis just seem like the kind of couple who can sell _really good_ angsty romance. And kissing in the rain. Not all couples can do that with a flair of sexy and a dash of sweet. On a different note, as I wrote this, I listened to _Kiss Me _by Sixpence None The Richer, which kind of matched the tone of the one-shot. Finally, heh, when I said "the more, the merrier," I didn't think I'd take myself up on that challenge so soon. Without further ado, enjoy the slightly-lengthy drabble!

**rain, #14**

You are not running away.

You are, one hundred percent, absolutely, totally not running away. There is nothing nor is there anyone to run away from. _There is nothing to be afraid of, Artemis._

The only thing you're afraid of is yourself and what you're doing to … him.

x-x-x

"_Aww, shit," Wally says as the sky suddenly blacks out and buckets of warm rain starts pouring down from the heavens. He quickly shakes his jacket off of his back and drapes it around your shoulders. You actually laugh out loud and grab his hand because his jacket isn't going to do much against the torrential downpour. According to Zatanna, sudden downpours only happen a few times during the year in Happy Harbor but when they do happen in September, they're merciless, as if the gods above have decided to just let her rip! To Tartarus with the mortals below! _Let's see what they can really do.

_Too bad for the gods that you love the rain._

_You grasp onto Wally's hand a little tighter and drag him into the wide, open road. You're both soaking wet now, his jacket is sagging heavily on your shoulders and his yellow t-shirt is sticking deliciously to his chest. With your free hand, you trail your fingers lightly across his chest and grin delightfully when his breath catches._

_Wally looks at you like you're a crazy woman, and hell, maybe you are. You're in love with this fool. But this fool makes you happy and he's changed you so that you've learned to smile with that extra crinkle in your eyes and he's taught you how to be a rock star on Friday night karaoke nights and you've taught him what gets you going late at night and he, likewise, but most of all, he's made you happy. Happier than you've ever been for the past nineteen years of your life._

"_Dance with me," you whisper in his ear, and you pull back to make sure he gets a look at your eyes because you're positive they're twinkling brighter than the fieriest stars in the cosmos. Wally looks as if he's not sure who you are and at the same time, he looks as if he's never been turned on more than right now, right here, with you._

_He's always been the better dancer, but that's never stopped you from trying, occasionally tugging and messing up the steps in your attempts to lead. Like the pair of wild youths you both are, you twirl, jump, run and move together in the thunderous storm. Together, you dance. Together, you dance with the rain, and the rain dances with you._

_He laughs when you stumble and when you slip on the dangerously wet tar of the road. He quickly laces the fingers of your locked hands together and tugs you closer towards him. He moulds your bodies together, every inch of your soaked, panting form pressed up against his wet, sturdy frame. He leans in close and touches your foreheads together and he smiles at you as if he's never seen anything so beautiful in his life. The only parts of you that aren't touching are your mouths. But those are also hot and gasping, just like the rest of you. Your lips reach out and grasp to know his and it only takes a second and a streak of lightning across the rumbling, angry sky before he tilts his chin and finally captures your lips with his._

_The storm continues to blow all around you and the rain just pounds harder and harder with every passing second but you kiss him with everything you have and everything you are._

x-x-x

It's severely chilly for just the beginning of November, the lamplights of Happy Harbor randomly flicker on and off, and to top things off, the sky is crackling with unrestrained electricity. You only make it to the next lamppost before the first drops of rain make it to the pavements. Some of the rain lands on your cheeks as you lean against the lamppost and turn your face towards the heavens.

_Have at it_, you tell the gods. _You've got me now._

At least the next person who passes by will simply mistake your tears for the rain but _you_ can distinguish nature from agony pretty easily when the former is ice cold and the latter tumbles down in hot, staggered streaks.

It's just your luck that the next person who passes by happens to be Wally.

"I have nothing to say to you," you whisper under the drowning noise of the rain. He frowns but whereas half an hour ago, he was _glaring_ and _scowling_ and _seething_ with anger, now he's just hurt and wants you back in his arms.

"Then just listen," he says in the same volume. You don't know how you can hear him above the rain that slams down on the concrete and the tin garbage bins behind you but then again, ever since you were fifteen, everything and everyone had always tuned out whenever he was in the same room.

He raises a hand and you think he means to hold onto you somehow so you flinch away. Instead he holds onto the lamppost above you and takes a deep breath.

"I'm not happy about this," he starts, "and I would gladly trade anyone, _anyone_ to take your place." His grip tightens on the lamppost and your breath quickens. There's that anger in his eyes again but this time, it's not rash and impulsive, it's passionate.

"But if this is what you want - what you _need_ to do, then I'll be right here, right behind you," he finishes, loosening his grip and stepping away from her.

You stand there with a gaping mouth and a heartbeat that's fast enough to alarm the next cardiologist. Wally's shoulders look defeated but his eyes tell differently. He understands. He gets that this is a part of you and there is no way you would have ever said no to this job, but he gets that now. It just took him a while, as it always does.

You're not sorry that you're taking this job, nor are you sorry that you skipped out right in the middle of your fight with him. You're not sorry that you'll have to lie to everyone and fight (and most likely _hurt_) the family you've learned to love and care for.

You're sorry that you're taking a huge chance in leaving him. _Forever. _You're sorry that you'll have to fight _him_ in front of your family and pretend that all you want is to hurt and _kill_. You're sorry that you'll have to be so far away from him for such a long time.

You want to tell him, but words are for later. Actions are for now.

You pull him close, as close as he held you back in September, and you kiss him with as much fervour as that of the rain that pounds down on your heads, and you're still crying, but he's here now.

You kiss him under the rain for the longest time and you give him your all and your everything because he, out of the billions on this planet, is the only one that deserves that.

* * *

I'm a sucker for rain, if you haven't noticed by now. Please don't hesitate to leave your thoughts and comments in a review!


	3. hero, 49

**Words**: 1,140  
**Character/s**: Wally, with mentions of Artemis, Dick, Kaldur  
**Notes**: Tried to angst, kind of failed, but was overall surrounded by terrible Wally feelings and some of that classy _Depths_ anguish we all know and love. This is centered on Wally, has that touch of Spitfire I can't help but add _everywhere_, and is a result of my almost-losing-it because of the hiatus. Also, I listened to Owl City's new song _Silhouette_ before writing this. That song is an instant sob-fest.

**hero, #49**

Wally's never had this much trouble sleeping before. There are two types of sleepless nights for him: those nights where he bolts up time and time again away from the comfort of his blankets and pillows, drenched in his own cold sweat, reliving the most gruesome parts of his nightmares, and then there are those nights where sleep just doesn't have the mercy to grab him and envelop him in its ignorant, soothing, _empty_ embrace. He wants to go to sleep - _needs_ to get some sleep - but the ticking of the clock echoes hauntingly in the room and if he positions his hand just so, he can feel the indentation Artemis's frame has left into the mattress of the bed.

He's worried about her, of course he is. What kind of a boyfriend would he be if he didn't for one second think about what she could be doing, what situation she might have gotten caught up in, whether she was hurting or - he hates to think of it - whether she was hurting _someone_? But while there's this aching void pulsing in his heart, constantly pushing a lump up his throat and forcing him to fruitlessly fight it back down, there's also something else - something darker and deeper that holds more gravity than he's ever been used to.

What is he fighting for anymore? How did everything come down to this? To all this deception, to all the lies, to every little falsehoods and half-truths they've had to spit into their team's faces? This is not him. This is not Wally West. He is not a liar, he does not purposely go behind his team's - no, his _family_'s back "for the greater good." That's something the Batman does and the guy might have a lot of swag under the cape but Wally's never wanted to be anything like Batman. He is not a liar. He isn't.

And yet, at the same time, there is this clawing feeling in his gut telling him that everything he's stood for, every last bit of morale that his darling mother, his brave father, and his good, good aunt and uncle have ever taught him, has all gone down the drain. He tosses and turns at night and tries to avoid this painful swelling in his chest but it's not going away.

Being a hero should not feel like this.

How could it be heroism when he and two of his closest friends, almost his own brothers, have so deftly allowed Artemis to depart with the Black Manta crew, likely to her own demise? M'gann and Conner, Zatanna and Raquel - they all think she's actually _dead_ - what on God's earth makes what they're doing the _right_ thing when they've practically stabbed everyone through the heart? If this is what superheroes do nowadays - dance on this thin tightrope woven by taut lies - then Wally thinks he wants out. He doesn't want to do this anymore, not when reaching "the greater good" can only be achieved immorally and unforgivably.

But then he thinks… _no_, he's _meant _to do this. Wally's meant to keep Dick's head on straight and remind him that he's still human, he's still _Nightwing_ and he is _not_ Batman. Wally's the one in charge of giving Kaldur those looks that say it _will_ get better, we _will_ eventually grab enough intel on the Shadows to finally take those sons of bitches down - Tula _will_ be avenged. And Wally is certainly in charge of pulling Artemis back from that rush she pines for and make sure she's still standing with her feet rooted firmly on the ground. Wally's the one in charge of making sure everyone's focused and determined and always on the right path. He's the one responsible for having his best friend's back all the time, no matter how ridiculous his newest plans are. He needs to be there to make sure their aquatic leader always has his speedy righthand man, so that Kaldur knows that he still has a purpose in this world; to lead. And Wally is, as he has always been, in charge of making sure Artemis has something - someone - to come home to.

Wally bites his tongue when his mind touches on Artemis's features. If he closes his eyes, he can picture her lying down next to him, eyes half-lidded and drowsy, smiling that crooked smile that only she can manage to pull off as sexy and adorable at the same time. He can watch her lick her lips slowly before throwing a biting remark at him, only partially angry. He can feel her fist land on his shoulder sharply, but also that startling shiver when her lips follow her fist's path and kiss the bruise away. God, he misses her and though he knows she's more than capable of holding her own, he just wants this mission to end before the next full moon (_psh, unlikely_, he thinks). He knows she's probably thinking the same thing, and that thought eases the clawing at his heart, and it's what puts him to sleep every night.

Wally's not sure when the hero business turned sour, but he knows somewhere along the way, he finally grew up. He hates it - God, does he hate it - and he wants to go back to those good old days when reconnaissance missions were like road trips ("air" trips?) with the team on the bioship. He wants to run after Dick and Artemis into burning buildings and pull helpless children out and see the smiling faces of grateful mothers. He even wants Black Canary to train him again and wipe the floor with his face as long as it can go back to all that - just heroing. Not this … deceit.

Maybe when all this is over and he's kissed Artemis long and hard, when he's given Dick the two symmetrically placed black eyes he's due, and when Kaldur has finally laughed for the first time in _years_, he'll don the suit one night. He'll leave the apartment quietly and don the stealth tech and see if that spark's still there. He'll take down some bad guys and put a few hooligans in jail, maybe even save a couple from a mugging or something.

He recreated his uncle's chemical experiment for _something_; he _wanted_ this, deep down, he knows he _still_ wants this, but he needs to find that surge again. This vortex of alienated deception is driving him nuts because it's not what he signed up for. Heroing the right way? That's who he is. Never straying off the path. Always certain of what's right and wrong. Reaching out to those less fortunate and incapable. Doing good _just for the sake_ of doing good. That's the hero business for Wally and he'll be damned if he can't let himself be a hero again.

* * *

I promise the next one will be 49 times better?


	4. nap, 60

**Words**: 985  
**Characters**: Wally, Artemis, mentions of orig!team  
**Notes**: Because there's always so much work and all you want to do is kiss your archer girlfriend/speedster boyfriend and have a good, long nap with them by your side.

**nap, #60**

Soft snores and steady breathing.

That was all Artemis could hear as she approached Wally's door along the hallway of the Cave's living quarters. It was a cool, quiet Sunday afternoon and she was left with the speedster in the cave while the rest of the team was out living their own good lives. Kaldur had gone swimming with Tula and Garth; they'd wanted to try out the new public pool that had recently opened in Happy Harbour. Robin had told everybody that he needed to finish a project with a friend and Artemis recalled Wally responding by cheekily singing something along the lines of "Barbara and Robin sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" He had only shut up when Robin threw a birdarang at him. Zatanna was actually out of town, visiting her extended family in New York, and Raquel never hung out in the Cave on Sundays anyway. As for Conner and M'gann, she'd last seen them sneak out of the Cave's back door so as not to alert anyone of their departure. She remembered M'gann mentioning something about a picnic a few days before and assumed that that was where the couple had headed off to.

As recently graduated seniors, Conner and M'gann were ruthless when it came to their free time now that they were free from everything and anything school-related. They had both opted to postpone college for now and maintain their job with the team. It wasn't really a decision everyone liked to talk about because anything that had the slightest insinuation of leaving the team carried with it an air of bitterness and sorrow. Not to mention awkwardness.

No one was leaving the team any time soon, though, Artemis was pretty sure of that. They all currently had bigger things to worry about, especially her and the snoring speedster. Though their dates didn't align exactly, both Artemis and Wally had exams coming up right around the corner and as honorary seniors who regularly took up secret identities to save the world on a daily basis, that meant a lot of stress. Stress and the inability to fight off sleep when it knocked, apparently.

Artemis opened the door to Wally's bedroom of the Cave. She had left him there twenty minutes ago to run to the grocery store and bring back some food before M'gann and Conner got home. She remembered telling him specifically to start reviewing for his Biology exam before she got back and wondered how far he'd gotten so far.

He obviously hadn't done much.

Wally lay atop his bed, flat on his stomach. His green, hardcover Biology textbook rested on the space next to him and one of his arms was draped over it, fingers curling to clutch the front cover loosely. A couple of stray pencils were scattered next to the length of his legs, sinking into the creases he was making in his bed. By his feet lay a spread of review papers, some for Biology, some of Chemistry, and others for Psychology and Math. When Artemis walked up to his bed, she swore she saw an English essay peeking out from under one of Wally's previous Chemistry tests.

Artemis rolled her eyes and quickly collected all of the papers and pencils and organised them as neatly as she could on his diabolically _un_organised and cluttered desk. She walked back to his bed and sat on the newly made space. Prying the textbook gently from his hold, Artemis ran a hand through Wally's hair and spoke in a quiet voice.

"Come on, Wallman. We got work to do," she said. The snores stopped but he didn't respond. Artemis leaned over the side of the bed to place the textbook on the floor and turned back to lift both of her legs onto his bed. Artemis pursed her lips and tilted her head, her loose blonde hair falling into a pool of gold next to Wally's head.

"Get up, West," Artemis scolded lightly, still stroking a path through his hair to the backs of his left ear and shaking his shoulder lightly with her other hand. When the redhead mumbled something incoherent, Artemis smirked and plopped down to lay next to him, fingers simultaneously playing with his hair and tracing patterns on his shoulder.

"We need to study, Wally," Artemis insisted in a whisper, but she subtly tucked away all of her academic responsibilities in the back of her mind when Wally finally picked his head off of his pillow and turned to her. His eyes, half open, were awash with sleep and held a hazy look upon them. Her heart caught in her throat for a moment when she caught a glimpse of his bright, green eyes. He blinked sleepily at her and wrinkled his nose.

"Can't we sleep for like half an hour or something?" he mumbled. Artemis snorted quietly.

"Not if you want that A, Baywatch," she said, moving forward to place a chaste kiss on his lips. Wally moaned appreciatively against her lips and his hand found a way around her wrist.

"You know just as well as I do that getting that A is easy as ice cream," he whispered against her lips. Artemis smiled lopsidedly but retaliated with, "Prove it." Wally pulled back briefly, still blessed with that dazed, rugged look that made him look so sinfully handsome against his desk's lamplight.

"Later," he decided, tugging her wrist and the rest of her form closer to him, his lips landing on a spot on the base of her neck. Artemis sighed contently, his ministrations doing wonders to all the recent stress that had been set heavily on her shoulders. Within moments, she'd come undone in his experienced hands and eventually she succumbed to letting him have his lazy way with her. They could work later; they'd been working the whole day.

Should sleep come, Artemis would welcome it.

* * *

Aaaaaand there's the 2AM mark. Everything I'm writing is telling me to go to sleep. Hope you guys enjoyed the Spitfire!


	5. comfort, 78

**Words**: 1,096  
**Characters**: Wally, Zatanna, mentions of Artemis  
**Notes**: The Young Justice Headcanons Tumblr was holding a Canadian Thanksgiving Fanfiction challenge and with everything going on right now (_Darkest_, classes, the changing weather - bon voyage, Summer - and _no sign of my darn OTP_), I forced myself to finally write something I could post. I didn't write this for the challenge. I wrote this for Wally and Zatanna.

**comfort, #78**

It's apple pie that reminds him what day it is.

A stupid seasonal dessert sitting at the top of their mostly empty refrigerator is what helps link his mind to the fact that today is Halloween, a holiday that just so happens to be one of Artemis's favourites. So he's sitting there at the dining table at seven in the morning, the eager voice of a new GBS reporter on TV chirping in the background, Nelson dozing on the floor by his feet, a plate of warm apple pie in front of him, and suddenly everything has gone from being fine, to being wrong, _all wrong_.

Wally's not so keen about abandoning food just when he'd gotten it ready (and when he's so goddamn hungry) but lately, he's been losing his appetite more and more often since nearly everything in his life reminds him of Artemis. In the mornings, he wakes up in their bed – _their _bed – and he's so used to turning to his side and curling himself around her slender form that when he does so now and is met with cold, empty space, it's chilling and unwelcoming. He usually takes his showers before her and he's so used to her voice yelling at him from the kitchen or the living room or right outside the bathroom door, taunting him about how slow he was in the shower despite the fact that he had the physical potential to finish up in four to seven seconds. He steps out of the shower every day now and all he hears is a void of crackling silence, the only sounds comforting him the ones of Nelson padding along somewhere in the apartment and the engines of cars and the voices of their neighbours outside.

He is displaced.

It's like the rest of the universe is choosing to defy gravity without Artemis's presence and the injustice and ridiculousness of it all makes Wally feel nauseous to the stomach every time he thinks of her.

The world should be pausing its rotations just so Wally can figure out how to get Artemis back, but no, the world keeps on turning, and he doesn't understand why.

Wally figures, it's a Wednesday, and he doesn't have any classes today, so he'll go to her. To her grave, he means. He thinks that maybe he needs to remind himself why they're doing all of this and the only way he can do that is to read the words **ARTEMIS LIAN CROCK** over and over again until they're stamped into his mind permanently.

* * *

What surprises him is that there's already someone at Artemis's grave with a bouquet of gorgeous, vibrant lilies, garnished with specks of baby's breath. Artemis's favourite.

Wally stands off to the edge for a minute, not announcing his presence and allowing the visitor to have their time with "her."

"And I guess now you'll never understand how happy I was afterwards that I ditched that Halloween party to go kick ass with you, Artemis. I wish I'd told you sooner how thankful I was for you; how great of a sister you were to me, and how I'm so sorry," the ebony-haired visitor chokes out the last part and Wally catches a glimpse of her face when she tilts her head to wipe at her cheeks.

"I lost my dad to Fate, Artemis," Zatanna starts again brokenly, "and I promised myself that I would never lose any of you from the team. Not you, not Wally, not Conner, not any of you." She sniffs and Wally's breath catches as his heart tumbles out of its usual sync for a brief second.

"And look where we are now. I _failed._ What have I accomplished? Kaldur's gone, my father is still lost to me, and now - now you," Zatanna has to stop there. She leans forward and rests her free hand on the face of Artemis's gravestone. With her head bowed, she looks like she's praying and Wally has to look away because prayers are messages to angels, aren't they, and the irony almost kills him because isn't that everything Artemis is?

"Do you - do you remember Greta?" Zatanna says suddenly, laying the bouquet of lilies on the floor next to her as she perches herself on the grass in front of the grave.

"Well, it - it's Halloween today and I just - I figured you wouldn't mind me telling the story again," Zatanna says shrugging. She isn't even looking at the gravestone anymore but she's still addressing it as if she's talking to Artemis herself. Intrigued, Wally steps forward to lean next to a nearby tree that still manages to shield him from Zatanna's view.

"I mean, we didn't even know her at all, right? Greta Hayes," Zatanna says the name clearly, a small smile adorning her tear streaked face.

"God, her brother was an asshole but you sure showed him, didn't you?" she laughs shortly, the memory of Artemis delivering a solid kick to Harm's sorry face flashing through her mind.

"We did good that night," Zatanna muses, rubbing two fingers over one lilac petal.

"That night was and will always be my favourite girls night out because it was with you, Artemis," she says.

"It was with you and I wish you knew how much I loved you, how much I still love you, and how much I miss you and how - how sorry I am."

"I am so sorry, Artemis," Zatanna whispers, and then there's a hand on her shoulder and, startled, she looks up and is faced with none other than Wally West. The sight of him there, with his familiar bright, red hair and extraordinarily virescent eyes - eyes so weary, almost breaks her completely because here stands the single most important person to Artemis and the only individual who fully understands what she's feeling right now.

"I'm sorry, Wally," she sobs quietly, reaching out for his hand, "I'm sorry I couldn't save her, I'm sorry she's gone –"

"– I'm sorry I didn't tell her how much she meant to me," she fruitlessly wipes at her eyes and Wally sits down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"I think she knew, Zee," he whispers after a moment of silence. She sniffles and turns to meet his gaze. His lips are quirked up into a half smile, one of solace, sympathy. That's all he can do: offer words and touches of reassurance and support. For now, all any of them can do is share amongst themselves what handfuls of blessed comfort they have left.

"She knew."


	6. competition, 30

**Words**: 823  
**Characters**: Wally/Artemis (M'gann and Dick)  
**Notes**: annicaspoon and I were talking on Skype and I was struck with inspiration after she said something about Artemis being so stubborn that she would've challenged Wally to a race. A friggin' _race_. You gotta love them stubborn, fiery-headed blonde archers.

**competition, #30**

"No. Powers." Artemis sticks a finger in front of his face threateningly as they walk to the track.

"Okay, okay! No powers," Wally agrees and he grins confidently, "Let's do this."

They both line up accordingly next to each other. It's only a 600-yard dash, definitely not a big deal, but Artemis hops on the balls of her feet nervously. If Wally doesn't use his powers, there's _no_ way he can beat her at this dash but still, he's always been hard to predict.

"Ready?" M'gann asks from her spot a few meters away. She's holding up one of those guns that start off runners during track meets and Artemis nods at her, crouching down slightly next to Wally. From the corner of her eyes, she can see this small, infuriatingly smug smile crinkling up the corner of his mouth and his green eyes are glinting mischievously. Oh, she'd show him.

"Ready," M'gann calls, "set," and _POP_, there's the explosion and Artemis zooms off - it's a perfect start, probably the smoothest one she's had yet. There's no one to her right and she assumes that she really _has_ left Wally behind in her dust - sucker - so she grins and tucks her chin in and prepares to sprint the rest of the dash. The wind feels so freeing and exhilarating running along the sides of her ears and into her hair and her ponytail is flapping along behind her animatedly; sort of like it's cheering her on, Artemis likes to think. She is _so_ going to win this.

But then, there's this terrifying blaze of bright red and she catches a flash of dusted freckles that are only fading away with every single day she's pressed her stubborn lips to them but goddamn it, this can't be happening.

Wally's skidding to a stop at the finish line a second later and he bends over, taking a few seconds to catch his breath but when he stands upright again, he's beaming brightly and she can tell that he was only pretending to be out of breath. Bastard.

Artemis's softball training pushes her to still sprint those last few yards and she rushes over the line at top speed. She slows down a few meters afterwards and turns her head slightly at Wally, who's sauntering up to her cockily.

"Well, beautiful?" He's smug again and it's unnerving and she wants to smack him upside the head again and throw nasty words at him but she's a little too out of breath at the moment to come up with a sharp-enough comeback so she settles with a quick, "Shut-up," before gasping for air.

He laughs breezily and suddenly she's being picked up and he's nuzzling his freckled nose against her sweaty brow and she's grimacing and grinning at the same time because she can never really help it whenever he's being touchy.

"Okay, if it makes you feel any better, babe, I did… _speed_ a little back there," he says as he walks back over to their applauding team with her cradled in his arms. Artemis glances over at them and wonders momentarily why the hell they're even clapping after _she_ just lost a race. She shoots a poisonous glare at them and the applause dies down to the sole clapping of Wally's best pal. She flicks him off rudely and the kid cackles hysterically but what Wally has just said registers in her head and she scoffs and punches his shoulder. He snickers and hoists her up higher in his arms. She mumbles gloomily to herself but wraps her arms around his neck anyway.

"You better put me down soon, Kid Fraud - I want a rematch," she snarls quietly.

"Anything you say, babe," Wally agrees without hesitation, dropping her to her feet gently and jogging back to the starting line as if it were something he did every day. Now that Artemis thinks of it, it kind of _is_ something he does every day.

She's beginning to realise that maybe she's fighting a losing battle.

…no.

Nuh-uh.

Artemis narrows her eyes, straightens her back defiantly and marches to her position at the lane to Wally's left.

"You're _so_ making this up to me when we get back to my place," she whispers to him silently. It's meant to be that sweet, seductive kind of threat but he doesn't react immediately like she expects him to. Wally doesn't turn to Artemis directly and continues to face the finish line but his eyes flash delightedly and the corner of his lips quirks up in that ridiculous half-smile and she's breathless again.

"It'd be my pleasure," he whispers back, eyebrows raised slightly, green eyes raking up her figure rapidly - oh, God - before they both crouch down into their starting positions and M'gann starts to count down again.

The gun goes off again and later, he gladly makes it up to her four times over.


	7. just don't let it get to you, (int 1)

**Words**: 907  
**Characters**: Wally West  
**Notes**: By far one of the worst things _I_ think I've ever written but I needed to practice/blow off steam from the events of November-so-far. I actually wasn't going to post this on FF but I figured, why the hell not, if at least two other people seemed to like it on Tumblr. /throws hands up in the air /is so done with this show /so done with this boy /so done with life /done done done

**just don't let it get to you, intermission #1**

All it took was a little push.

It only took one little nudge on fate's part until Wally was hanging off of the edge, dangling by a string, and holding on for dear life - sometimes literally, too. He didn't believe in fate but if he did, he'd think that it had a weird way of showing him the right "path" or whatever.

So there he was. On the metaphoric ledge of his teenage life, and he could've dropped at any given second. There was nothing more exhilarating and terrifying than the prospect of your impending doom weighing down on your shoulders. But Wally lived for that rush; he knew Artemis did, too.

He _didn't_ know that she would be one of the factors that could catalyze that sort of reaction from him. It was like she came out of nowhere – out of the dark, out of the light, materializing out of nowhere to give him one look, one raised eyebrow – just to smirk at him and wrap him around her little finger.

And you know, he thought he was always faster than everyone. Even his Aunt Iris started to mention more that that was why he could never get a girlfriend.

_You're going too fast, kiddo_.

Sometimes she grinned afterwards and Wally would call her out on the innuendo at hand but other times he'd be slouching in her couch, Uncle Barry nowhere in the vicinity, and she'd perch herself on the couch's arm and automatically he'd lean into the comfort of her stomach and she'd shush him, tousle his hair and tell him, "Slow down, Wally."

_Slow down, Wally._

And when it came to Artemis, he _wanted_ to slow down _and_ speed up at the same time because hell if he knew what was going on whenever she was around.

What was it exactly about this girl? Since when did he falter in the presence of something that _didn't_ have a Y-chromosome? What happened to the smooth and suave Wally West he'd come to know and love?

See, Wally thought that Artemis was kind of like a hurricane but without the eye of the storm. There was no calm in the middle when it came to her. It was always up and down, left and right, in and out - whatever he did, there was no escaping her and it frustrated him to no end that he was the only one being thrown around like this.

So: what right did this harpy have coming into his life and have him desperate for changing and starving for some kind of answer?

None. She had _no_ right.

And then Bialya happened and he was flung around again. Except this time, he landed in the calm of the storm. The calm that was never supposed to exist. He and Artemis were _never_ supposed to get along and yet, there they were. In two streaks of green and gold against the blazing sun of the Bialyan desert… they worked. And they knew it, too.

But taking a step back seemed to be the only good choice back then because, really? Since when did spontaneous splotches of red and majestic swirls of gold ever go together? She was out of his league in her kickass combat boots and surefire mouth, always ready with some sassy, smartass comment that never failed to make him look bad. Sweet didn't seem like her style and at the end of the day, that was all he really had going for him. Wally was the good guy, Artemis was the bad girl, and no amount of acting on his part would change that.

It felt just like heading down a spiral, or maybe tumbling down a long, winding staircase that wouldn't end. He was head over heels for her and he was getting bruised and battered – and goddamn it, it wasn't helping his masculinity _or_ his self-confidence in any way whatsoever.

_Don't let that harpy get to you_, he'd tell himself.

But every day, he would. And every evening, he'd wonder why. Why, why, why _- who are you _- why, why, and why.

And he figured it out after they killed her under the confines of a telepathically enhanced nightmare. She was important for a reason. She was affecting him - and only him - for a reason.

He wasn't running away from this girl; nor was he trying to _out_run her. He was running _to_ her.

He just wasn't fast enough.

Yet.

Maybe he wasn't ready for this. But he could learn to adapt, to change. And maybe this whole time he'd been running so fast, waiting for something he never knew was going to come anyway and she'd been right there all along and he just didn't know about it.

But if she wanted him wrapped around her finger, then so be it. If she wanted to throw him around like the dastardly hurricane she was, then go ahead. Because he'd come right back for more until he could figure out every single inch of her.

Was he ever going to be fast enough for her? Maybe. He was on the edge, biting right at her heel, and he was gaining on her every day, and soon enough _he'd_ be the swift wind that picked her up and took her away - wherever she wanted, wherever _they_ wanted. Just like Bialya.

Was he masochistic for doing this to himself? Maybe. But in only the sweetest way possible.


	8. photographs, 96

**Words**: 2,569  
**Characters**: orig!team, mentions of _Wally/Artemis_, Dick/Barbara, Dick/Zatanna, _Conner/M'gann_  
**Notes**: This sounded better in my head than it did out loud.

**photographs, #96**

There is a place where people can go to recall the best of times, the finest of moments.

This is a place where secrets are no longer secrets, but stories waiting to be told, because they _will_ be told, one way or another. This is a place where judgement is no longer important because no one will ever be judged and everyone is understood and loved. This is a place for an orchestra of instrumentalists who have played with each other for so long that they are fine-tuned to the other five players in the band. They were lucky enough to have met at such a young age so that they all had the chance to learn how to make music together. They learned _from_ each other, took a few pages from each other's books, and wrote their own music that way.

Isn't that a little like what life's about? You get to come up with your own symphony, or maybe an opera, or a duet, or something simple. You get to make your own music, have your own adventures, learn to melodise those broken chords, stack those harmonies, and build your repertoire. And if someone's lucky enough, they get to play a part in making that music.

This is a place for music, and for late-night meals, for ice cream breaks and truth-and-dares. This is a place where memories don't shatter but are glued back together.

This place is called home.

x-x-x-x

They don't have an address for the Cave – or the mountain, come to think of it. They never really needed it, then and now, because each and every single one of them knew how to get to the cave and the mountain wasn't really going anywhere, was it?

Of course, they had to choose a new Cave after the Reach invasion episode had blown over (_literally_ blown over – there were _so_ many explosions in those last two weeks). The Team's headquarters are no longer in Happy Harbor now but in an underground centre in Gotham deep enough in the earth so that not even the strongest satellite could find them. No one quite likes the new Cave, even if Dinah has done everything in her decorative power to make the place feel like home, much less Beast Boy, who still has to live there for one more year until he turns eighteen. But he's there for now, and it's not so bad when he gets to hang out with Tim, Cassie, and Jaime every single day.

x-x-x-x

Sometimes people will learn to remember, sometimes they'll learn to forget. But the hardest of hearts may just succeed in holding on to the very things that have made them so hard and so strong, no matter how much it hurts.

And when they look at the book of photographs that held all they ever were when they were all teenagers in the early 2010's (almost a decade ago) it still hurts a little.

They miss it. They all miss it.

But then over time, they notice that though the photographs fade and don't appear as saturated as when M'gann or Dick had originally taken them, they're still there. They can still make out each and every distinct feature of one redheaded speedster piggybacking an irate blonde archer who doesn't seem to want to be on his back in the first place. They can still distinguish which head is which under those perched yellow, blue and pink cone-shaped party hats for someone's birthday – it might have been Wally's again, or maybe it was Conner's.

They miss it, but these people have learnt not to forget.

They remember.

x-x-x-x

M'gann, of course, is always the one who arranges the get-togethers. Normally she starts off her mornings just like any other morning, but team days are special. She follows her routine and begins by rolling onto her side to glance at the calendar on her bedside table. If it's highlighted, marked in red, dashed with sparkles, or decorated in any way whatsoever, it's either a birthday, an anniversary, or a team day. When she sees that it's a team day, the soft features with which the martian has learned to mask all her inner turmoil ceases and fades away. She is no longer Megan Morse, wedding planner at Something Blue, Inc., she is M'gann again. M'gann M'orzz.

_My name's no secret. It's M'gann M'orzz!_

And for days like today, she allows herself a small smile and rolls back to face La'gann on the other side of the bed. She plants a soft kiss on his bare arms before shaking him awake slowly and making her way to the kitchen to start breakfast.

He always calls after her.

x-x-x-x

For each and every one of these reunions, M'gann makes sure that the first person she contacts is Kaldur. Not only so that his doctors in Atlantis know when to prep him for surfacing, but also because he is the only one who really matters in these get-togethers. For M'gann, if he doesn't show up, there's no point in having the reunions in the first place.

There is no way she will ever be able to make up for all she did to him. She can try to apologise, and she can try to make amends, but she cannot atone for her sins.

But Kaldur had always given her the benefit of the doubt, and he had always had such strong faith in her. And though it took time to even get him to look at her again, perhaps it was after about a year that crystal eyes didn't feel so cold anymore. And perhaps it was about fifteen or sixteen months after the invasion that he started to answer to _Kaldur_ again and not _Aqualad_.

It gets better, it really does. It takes time, and it takes so much patience, but _good things come to those who wait._

And as much as M'gann believes that, she believes in Kaldur more.

x-x-x-x

Dick is always next because if she doesn't call him, he'd never be able to find a sub to take over his sparring lessons with the new recruits. Ever the chatter box, he always ends up brightening her day, teasing her about either La'gann or La'gann's parents, but he's always sidetracked when she brings up either Zatanna or Barbara. Note: _not_ two topics he's fond of discussing at once.

"I trust you'll have new ones to bring?" she asks him every time.

"Remember who you're talking to, M'gann," Dick always retaliates, shuffling the newly developed copies in his hands. She smiles contentedly.

"Of course. I'm sorry, I just don't want anyone to forget."

"No, I understand. Just make sure Mister and Missus West don't forget either. You know they can get… rowdy… when left alone," Dick jokes flippantly.

"Ew, Dick," M'gann scolds him lightly, and the now-24-year-old _man_ cackles.

At least some things never change.

x-x-x-x

Wally never picks up the phone.

It's not his fault really, he just _can't_ pick up the phone. Or he tries to, and he just never gets there in time before Artemis answers after the second or third ring.

"It's M'gann," she whispers over the mouthpiece, and Wally forms an O with his mouth in understanding. He limps over to the den's table, the one placed right between the sofa and the television. He takes the time to sit on the sofa carefully, sinking into the pillows first before heaving himself forward and reaching onto the underside of the table. Feeling for the taped envelope, he finally gets his fingers on one of the corners and pries it from its sticky traps.

"Got it," he tells his wife of five years (popped the question right after the Invasion!). She nods at him to show she's heard and continues to talk to M'gann on the phone. Wally settles back into the sofa and fingers the corners of the envelope. They'd finished making the collection just two days ago. He hadn't thought the next reunion would be so soon, but M'gann was always spontaneous like that whenever it came to the team.

With one hand, he rubs his knee – always sore, forever damaged – and looks back up at Artemis. She hasn't aged in the five years they'd been married and if anything, she's about seventeen times as beautiful as she is now, at twenty-five years old, than when she was twenty and fighting with the wrong side. Wally's eyes never stray from her figure, even when she catches him and gives him a bashful smile before turning away. She's a little red.

He'll never understand how he was able to catch someone so magnificent and still manage to hold onto her after all these years.

She crawls onto the spot in the sofa next to him and kisses his cheek.

"God, I can't wait to see everyone again," she says in the raspy voice that captured his senses at a tender age of fifteen.

"Yeah," he agrees quietly, and his eyes flicker back to the envelope in his hand and he hopes they're good enough.

x-x-x-x

The five of them are at the gates of Harbor Park, originally Happy Harbor Park, which was totally unoriginal, in both Wally's and Dick's opinions, but the new mayor had legally shortened the name last month. To the rest of Happy Harbor, Harbor Park is like Central Park but in Happy Harbor. It's just another recreation site; one of the city's finest landscapes and central attractions. To the rest of the world, Harbor Park is just a park, but to these five – M'gann, Kaldur, Dick, Wally, Artemis – Harbor Park is where Mount Justice used to stand.

x-x-x-x

There's a small clearing at the very back of the park, so far back into the woods that not even the rangers or the police officers go back to check. This is where the graves of the REACH invasion heroes are buried. Five years ago, Batman and Nightwing had it all arranged under the government's nose because the only way a funeral service for heroes was going to be done right was if other heroes did it.

There are many tombstones.

Of course they're all important to each member of the team, but obviously only a few really stand out. The first one that does is Allen's.

_Bart Allen_.

There's a lightning bolt at the top and centre of his grave stone and Wally's old pair of Kid Flash goggles hangs off a nail on the top-right corner of the stone. He hobbles awkwardly ahead of the team with Artemis following close behind him before making a stop in front of Bart's grave.

"There are no words, kid," is all he mutters before leaning down, grunting in pain, and placing a bag of chicken whizees off to the side of the stone. He stands back up and Artemis places her hand on his shoulder. He looks at her meaningfully and she gives him a tender smile.

They move on.

x-x-x-x

There are others. There's Raquel's, a fine stone, gorgeous and bold, just as she was. It's made of marble and has her name – _Raquel Ervin_ – carved into it. To the side, there's a smaller stone, also made of marble. It reads: _Amistad Augustus Ervin_.

It is not fair that he got to have a gravestone before he even got to see the light of day.

x-x-x-x

_Conner Kent_.

x-x-x-x

They stand in front of their last teammate's gravestone, and they're all thinking of different things. Artemis thinks about how she should have saved that last arrow for him, she should have done _something_. Kaldur thinks about how he had failed his brother in arms. He had gotten caught up in the worst of debacles and he lost a brother in the process. Wally thinks about how he wasn't fast enough, he just wasn't fast enough, and in the end, he'd broken his legs anyway, and now he'll never be fast again. Dick thinks that he'll never know another hero braver than Conner. No one could compare, not even Bruce. And all M'gann can see in her mind's eye is sunshine, and a lazy glimmer in cobalt eyes.

She will never be able to describe the remorse, the agony, and the sheer regret that maybe she had in her arms the best thing she could ask for, and all she did was throw it away.

She has so much to repent for. So many things that deserve apologies.

She can start here.

"Hey, Conner," she whispers to the grave. It's granite; strong and sturdy, just like him.

"We - we've got a new batch of photos," M'gann continues, reaching over to take Dick's thick stack, Wally's and Artemis's heavy envelope, and Kaldur's slightly thinner pile. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a few photos of her own.

"We thought – since you loved the album idea we used to have back when we were all still kids – we'd keep the tradition going, but especially for you," Wally says, leaning on Artemis.

"But I guess we didn't really have to remind you, did we?" Artemis pitches in, wrapping her arm around Wally's waist.

"We hope you like them, my friend," Kaldur says quietly and everyone turns to him, their gazes angled downwards as their ex-team leader sits back in customised wheelchair, hands resting comfortably on each arm.

Dick sighs and opens his mouth to form the words everyone's been trying to express, "We miss you, Conner."

x-x-x-x

The grass is blessedly dry as the five of them sit next to Conner's grave for the next few hours, and tell stories. They reminisce about old training sessions when Black Canary used to wipe the floor with their faces, they bring back memories of old pies Wally's mother always had him bring to the cave, they make fun of the new recruits at the new headquarters who Dick, Tim, Jaime, and Cassie are having a bit of a hard time training. They even gossip a little and tell as many scandalous stories about Barbara, Zatanna and Dick as they know, along with who heard what along the grapevine about Jaime and Cassie and if the two had hooked up yet or not (spoilers: they have).

And to the average person, this motley crew of misfits might seem either crazy or disturbed, talking to a tall, granite grave stone planted into the soil of the earth. But every time M'gann flips to the next photograph and Artemis recalls that _oh, I remember that! That's when Wally did so-and-so and made himself look like a complete idiot_, all five of them can't help but feel more and more at home in the shelter of these hidden woods as the sun sets along the expanse of the horizon.

x-x-x-x

There's a shelf built into Conner's gravestone, made especially for the photographs. It's like a little cove, or an insertion where the printed copies can lie protected for as long as they like. The newest photograph on top is one of all six of them, when they were all in their prime. They're not in their uniforms in the photograph, they're actually in the harbor along what used to be Mount Justice's beach.

There is sand, and sun. There is the sea, and the sky. There are six bright faces grinning at the camera, gleaming and glowing.

They shine.


	9. baby, 16

**Words**: 1,441 (w/o lyrics!)  
**Character/s**: M'gann/Conner  
**Notes**: For the complete effect, listen to "The Way I Am" by Ingrid Michaelson. Trust me on this.

**baby, #16**

_If you were falling, then I would catch you  
__You need a light? I'd find a match_

* * *

She looked out the window just in time to catch the last hue of orange before the sun dropped below the horizon. And that was that – the night fell. Barely a minute passed before someone hit the gym lights where the spring formal would be taking place. All of a sudden, drops of neon blue, green, purple and pink were strewn all over the floor, lights that twinkled and turned in a merry dance. M'gann turned from the wide windows to scan the spacious venue. The Bumblebees were already dispersed around the gym, adding some last-minute decorations, rearranging tables and chairs, and blowing balloons. In one corner stood Marvin, smacking a yellow balloon around in a poor imitation of volleyball before Mal reached over his head to snatch it from the air and offer it to Karen, who smirked amusedly.

* * *

'_Cause I love the way you say good morning  
__And you take me the way I am_

* * *

M'gann looked all the way across the gym to the bleachers, where Conner stood with the other guys who'd volunteered to lug in the tables and rafters. He had this unimpressed look on his face while a slim, dark-skinned kid with a wild afro gestured and chattered animatedly to him. Conner rolled his eyes at his companion and turned his head to the side, unintentionally turning to face M'gann. She blushed a bright red and squeaked quietly, turning away from his gaze as quickly as possible.

* * *

_If you are chilly, here, take my sweater  
__Your head is aching, I'll make it better_

* * *

"Megan! There you are! Do you have the music?" a chirpy voice called from the side. The martian (disguised as a Caucasian, of course) turned her attention to Wendy, grateful for the distraction.

"I do! It's right here," she said, reaching into her purse and pulling out the iPod that held the spring formal playlist Zatanna and Artemis (and Wally) had helped her put together over the past week.

"Oh, thank God, I thought for sure we'd have to use Marvin's or Mal's iPod, and there is _no_ way I'm letting them play Macklemore - again!" Wendy exclaimed exasperatedly, clapping a hand to her face in relief. M'gann giggled.

"Well, they like their thrift shopping," she said, shrugging. Wendy gave her a look.

"Those two are the only ones who go around crooning about having only _twenty dollars in their po-cket_ and I'm sick of it! The whole school's sick of it!" Wendy cried, throwing her hands up in the hair dramatically. M'gann resisted the urge to laugh at her friend.

"Wendy, it's alright! The playlist is right there and spring formal is going to be perfect," she reassured her friend, who had planned the majority of the dance, taking her hands and giving her a sweet smile. The dark haired cheerleader took a deep breath and let it out as patiently as she could before plastering a sincere smile on her face and beaming at M'gann.

"You're right. You're always right. I'm going mad over this but you're absolutely right. Tonight is going to be _perfect_," Wendy said excitedly. She squeezed M'gann's hands and pulled away to head over to the DJ's booth, "Thanks for the music, Megan, I'll see you around!" M'gann waved a short goodbye and turned around – only to walk right into a sturdy and familiar chest.

"Conner!" Either Robin had been giving him lessons on Sneakiness 101 or she was losing her touch already, but M'gann's hands flew up in surprise. When she realised he'd grabbed hold of her arms to steady her from falling, she dropped them immediately to her sides and grasped one arm self consciously. She started to stammer nervously.

"How did - where'd – "

"Are you avoiding me?" he asked very frankly. M'gann blanched but Conner maintained a simply curious, if not concerned exterior.

* * *

'_Cause I love the way you call me baby  
__And you take me the way I am_

* * *

"What! N-no, of course n – why would I?" M'gann stuttered, her face flushing warmly again. Conner gave her this lazy look.

"You tell me." He tilted his head to the side a little, the disco lights reflecting off his eyes and making them glow a bright azure. It reminded her of the end of last summer, when she didn't yet know the extent of her powers.

* * *

_I'd buy you rogaine when you start losing all your hair  
__Sew on patches to all you tear_

* * *

"Why are you avoiding me, M'gann?" Conner asked blatantly, scratching the back of his neck, a new habit M'gann had noticed was an altered version of Wally's tick of rubbing the back of his neck whenever he was nervous. They seemed to be hanging out a lot lately. M'gann cringed to herself.

"Did I do something I'm not aware of?" Conner continued, "I mean, Wally told me to be more observant when it comes to you and I've been trying, but maybe I missed something?"

M'gann didn't say anything for a moment. Conner trying to fill in a palpitating silence by _talking_ was rare and in the back of her mind, she wanted to see how far he'd go. Quietly, she thanked the heavens that it was Wally who had taken to mentoring Conner and who had become something of a brother to him. The changes were already showing.

"M'gann, if I did something, you can tell me. I'm kind of losing it here," he mumbled finally. She chuckled lightly at that because, as always, he looked far from losing it; instead he showed next to no emotion, except maybe that sliver of worry in the crease in his eyebrows.

"It isn't you, Conner," M'gann said placatingly. He raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Oh," he muttered, scratching his neck again.

"Then, why have you been so distant from everyone?" he pressed. M'gann took a deep breath and let it out, studying the strobe of lights flickering across the room.

"It's just… that man at Los Angeles. I don't … know if what I did was right," she explained, choosing her words carefully.

Conner turned away to stare at the west wall of the gym for a good thirty seconds before he turned back to M'gann.

"You shouldn't have hurt him to get the intel," he agreed. M'gann flinched.

"He was a _bad guy_, Conner, both of us knew that from the beginning," she countered weakly.

"And that makes it alright to fry his brain?" he shot back calmly. M'gann looked at the floor in shame.

"I didn't mean to do what I did. It just happened. And I'm sorry," she added quickly, looking back up at him.

"I hurt that man. I don't know what the others are thinking about me - what they're saying about me. And there is no way I'm ever delving into their minds just to find out," M'gann whispered self-consciously. Conner frowned. He stepped in a little closer and took hold of her hand.

"If they _are_ talking about you, they're only saying good things," he assured her.

* * *

'_Cause I love you more than I could ever promise  
__And you take me the way I am_

* * *

"Conner, I don't want to become a… a monster who hurts others for the sake of a mission," she confessed.

"You're not a monster," he said, lacing his fingers with hers, "It was a mistake. We're all still learning. It hasn't even been a year yet. And right now, you're fine the way you are." She couldn't help it. Her heart, Martian it may be, melted a little. She gave him a small smile – the first genuine smile he'd seen the whole week – and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

* * *

_You take me the way I am_

* * *

"Thank you," she whispered against his skin. Before she knew it, he was leading her onto the dance floor, passively ignoring the curious looks the other students were giving them.

"Conner, what - " M'gann shut her mouth with a squeak when Conner pulled her flush against him and started dancing to the sounds of - well, nothing.

"Conner, what are you - there's no music playing," she whispered fiercely into his ear, blushing when she made eye contact with an ecstatic Wendy and a chortling Karen.

"Wally told me that when it counts, you don't need music to dance," Conner told her, content to hold her in the middle of the dance floor, swaying to a silent ballad.

"He did, did he?" M'gann muttered under her breath, completely at a loss for what to do. _Everyone_ was watching them and _no one_ was doing or saying anything. Wendy didn't even bother starting any music. Conner nodded against the side of her head.

"It works with Artemis, apparently," he added. M'gann sighed.

"Conner, Wally and Artemis are hopelessly, romantically in love," she explained matter-of-factly.

"And we're not?" Conner challenged. And he sounded really innocent, but as they always were when focused on her, his eyes were glimmering with something more than just happiness. M'gann could feel herself melting again – how did she become the luckiest girl in the universe? – and realised she was being stupid. So she laughed quietly and pulled herself in closer.

"We are."

* * *

_You take me the way I am_


End file.
